


Terrify

by the_authors_exploits



Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Angst, Gen, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 14:12:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2194797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_authors_exploits/pseuds/the_authors_exploits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You were six when Harry Osborn dared you to go swimming in a melted pool at the end of winter; this is far worse than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terrify

“I’m dying.”

You’ve been dunked in cold water before, that time Harry dared you to go swimming in an unfrozen pool at the end of the winter when you were six. It washed over you and made it so you had trouble breathing because all you could suck in was cold, cold air and cold water and cold; made you hear your heartbeat thudding in your ears, made it so that was all you could hear, made you unable to feel anything with your hands, your feet. No touch was felt, you shook and hurt and ached. Your teeth chattered and you couldn’t speak clearly at all. It made you scared to feel so numb.

This is far worse than being dunked in cold water. Your limbs feel heavy and your heart has stopped altogether; you’ve stopped breathing, you don’t want to breathe, you’re hands tingle and spots swim across your vision. You barely register anything else that is spoken between you two, can barely articulate the words to hold a conversation. When they do come, they’re rough and quiet and barely there. While you feel so empty you feel so full of emotion; regret and fear and anger and sadness and your eyes burn but you don’t have the energy to cry.

_I’m dying._

Those words terrify you to a sense of numbness.

So as soon as you hang up, you rush to his place. His secretary, Felicia something, it doesn’t matter, shows you to his office and before he can get a word out you gather him against your chest. You don’t…can’t lose him, _won’t_ lose him. He stiffens for one moment in your grip--he’s not always tactile--before curling his arms around you, leaning heavy into you, gripping tight at your shirt. You support him easily, his full weight, he’s so small, so vulnerable. He’s shaking.

_I’m dying._

Those words must terrify him too.


End file.
